While we certainly have our share of choices, the Bay Area sometimes feels like it's not exactly overflowing with vegan brunch options. Those that we have, however, can be pretty remarkable- and the best among them, in my opinion, is St. Francis Fountain. Unfortunately, I hardly ever eat there. It's a good 40 minutes door to door from my house (including a trans-bay train ride), which I'm not often motivated to do on a lazy weekend morning. Then once you arrive, the lines, THE LINES!! You list your name and the number in your party on clipboard underneath about two hundred other people, all of whom have either mustaches or eyeglasses with non-prescription lenses or dead raccoon tails hanging off their jeans and get off my lawn!

Except for one magical weekend.

That magical weekend is Labor Day weekend. It's magical because it's three days long, and given that it's the first weekend in September, it heralds the unofficial start of summer in San Francisco (yes, you read that right: the start of summer). But most importantly: it's Burning Man weekend.

It seems a huge number of San Franciscans travel to Nevada every year to participate, which makes sense, considering Burning Man relocated there after outgrowing Ocean Beach. The flipside for non-"burners" such as myself is that for one long, often sunny weekend, the streets are empty, the sound of bongos has disappeared from Dolores Park, and there are no waits for your favorite restaurants. So naturally, it's often the only time all year I'll attempt a brunch at St. Francis!

This year was fantastic. My boyfriend and I walked from his house in the northwestern edge of the Mission district to St. Francis Fountain in the southwestern edge. The weather was beeeeea-utiful! It seemed like everyone and their mom was on the street- literally, there weren't a ton of folks out but everyone that we saw seemed to be people our age (mid-30s) with their silver-haired parents. It seemed like a completely different neighborhood, perhaps even a different city. Then we passed by the new restaurant that sells $14 tacos (FOURTEEN GODDAMN DOLLARS FOR A TACO HOW DO YOU MONSTERS EVEN SLEEP AT NIGHT) and I was pulled right back into the "reality" of the Mission district in 2013.

The awesome forces that are San Francisco Labor Day did not let us down. We were seated within five minutes of arrival! That has never ever ever happened to me at St. Francis Fountain (and probably never will again).

Lemme tell you a bit about this place. There are crazy wait times for a reason. It is fun. It is awesome. It is an old-fashioned soda fountain that has been around for 95 years, in a little pocket of the city where a lot of businesses are just as long-established and locally-beloved. A lot of the interior decor (including a working phone booth) is still intact from the 50s, kept clean and tidy. There are wood-paneled booths, a few formica tables up front, and a long counter with vintage cherry-red stools. A candy counter along the opposite wall stocks old-fashioned sweets and overruns of trading cards from the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Some of this stuff is amazing- I didn't even know they made Saved By The Bell or Welcome Back, Kotter trading cards.

Ready to rock.

Of course, a day without coffee is like a day without sunshine (except in San Francisco, where a day without coffee is like a day without cold, biting wind), so give me a nice thick white diner mug of that. And it's not brunch without booze- it's what champagne-based cocktails are made for- so I always order up a bougainvillea: a bit of bubbly with orange and cranberry juices. And a glass of water so my kidneys don't shrivel up and plop out of me next time I sneeze too hard.

At first glance, the menu looks like it, too, has been preserved from the 50s, but inside you'll find the word 'vegan' a number of times. St. Francis Fountain offers vegan pancakes, breakfast burritos, sandwiches, and scrambles, but my jam always has been and always will be The Vegan Thing. A pile of homefried spuds with onions and peppers, liberally doused in vegan cheese, salsa, and guacamole. Have mercy! After a brunch like that, there's really nothing else to do but waddle home and wait to die because it DOES NOT GET BETTER THAN THIS.